


Doubles

by zaan



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sweet, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaan/pseuds/zaan
Summary: They had hugged Jules, not Julian.





	Doubles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConceptaDecency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Singles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20196331) by [ConceptaDecency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency). 

> A little piece I felt compelled to write after reading ConceptaDecency's Singles

They had hugged Jules, not Julian. His father had wanted to push him away from childish things, to steer him towards books and achievements. His mother had been awkward, unsure how to behave around this new son who was not her Jules. Oh, there had been the odd pat on the back from his father, the occasional awkward embrace from his mother - but not much, not often and never enough.

And so Julian grew up starved for touch, Kukkalakka rubbed bare in his substitute role. He grew up envious of other children and the easy and casual way their parents touched them. He grew up both saddened for and resentful of Jules who was gone but had known the soft embrace of his mother's arms.

His need for touch let him early to games of love. He loved intensely, desperately. He basked in the giddy, early days of a relationship when it seemed his lover would never tire of him. But they did. Long after the thrill of constant touching had worn thin for others it remained strong in him, and his clinginess often drove them away. He couldn't learn to be moderate. He wanted, needed, to touch and be touched.

He often wished he came from a more expressive culture. Although staid England had moved far from the Victorian era there was still more stiff upper lip than laying on of hands. He kept himself in check, wary of scaring friends away. When he found someone who passed around touches and friendliness in a casual, natural way - like Felix - he latched onto them. Literally.

As far as friendships of this sort went, the station had proved a disappointment. It had taken him forever just to get people to tolerate him; he didn't dare try for more. Miles wasn't the demonstrative type, Odo didn't touch anyone, no one touched a Kira (except at their peril) and Dax – well, Dax would have been wonderful except Julian worried that if he started touching her now she would misinterpret it as another unwanted romantic pursuit.

There was only one bright spot in the bleak barrenness of DS9, and it came from where he had least expected it: Garak. At their first meeting Garak had pressed his hands warmly into Julian's shoulders, and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected but oh-so-welcome touch. He hadn't hoped for more – he was pretty sure the point had been to throw him off his stride – and yet ... as their friendship progressed Garak had started offering small, friendly touches: a hand on his forearm when he made a point, a brief squeeze of his shoulder in greeting. 

Julian had hesitantly, tentatively touched back. Not finding himself rebuffed, he'd relaxed and they'd settled into a companionable pattern. That, and his occasional – often dismal – romantic dalliances, gave him a pauper's allowance of affection on which he lived.

It might never have changed but for a small reference in one of Garak's novels to a 'pile' of Cardassians relaxing in the evening. Wanting a straight answer, he didn't bother asking Garak but went straight to Odo. What he learned excited him, emboldened. He understood suddenly the horror of Garak's exile and he wondered if maybe, perhaps, they could ... but then he hesitated. Maybe Cardassians only liked touching family. Maybe they only like touching other Cardassians and not soft, pink, hairy humans.

He was becoming increasingly restless with indecision until, one day at lunch while trying and failing to explain a tennis move to Garak, he saw and seized his opportunity. To his relief, Garak sank back into his touch (at least to Julian's enhanced senses; outwardly, his reactions were restrained). Garak even went so far as to feign interest in tennis lessons - a deception in which Julian was a willing accomplice.

They quickly and tacitly agreed to change their relationship, though neither ever acknowledged nor talked about it. With each touch accepted and returned, they relaxed into one another. They were careful in public, careful neither to touch too much nor in a way that would draw unwanted attention. Instead they diversified their activities. They attended concert's where they sat with their legs pressed close together. They played tennis (with copious lessons) and then migrated onto sprawling bouts of wrestling. They read together in the evening, sprawled together on the couch. 

Over time they began adding looks to the touches - tentative at first, as their first touches had been. The looks lengthened, deepened. It wasn't falling in love so much as growing into love, steadily and naturally until the love twined around them, welcome and warm.

Little by little, each looked less to what was lost in the past to what they were building for the future.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The stories from his lips](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403016) by [AgrippaSpoleto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgrippaSpoleto/pseuds/AgrippaSpoleto)


End file.
